Sons Of Misfortune
by Anticleides
Summary: The Jackal lives...and even he cant work alone. Follow 3 men as they fight their way through the worst of central Africa. They are guns for hire, paid operators to the highest bidder. No one said it would be easy...working with the Jackel never is. R&R


" Land Of Opportunity "

Name: Benjamin Eversman

Age: 29

Place Of Birth: Boulder, Colorado

Nationality: American

Height: 5,8

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Blue-Grey

Weight: 160lbs

Experience: Unites States Army Ret. ,( Infantry, Special Forces, SF Cadre ) Embassy Defense Forces Ret. ( South America ) . Blackwater Paid Operator ( Middle East ).

_- Ice Cold. Calculating Intellect. If you need help designing a more efficient water purifier…or killing a well defended VIP, Make sure Ben Eversman is on your side._

Sitting on top of a destroyed cargo plane, rifle smoking along with the cigarette in his mouth, waiting for his contact to arrive Ben realized something. Hell had settled right in the middle of Africa. Hell had manifested itself taking the form of rebels, genocide, disease, drought, famine, massacre's and death of all kind.

So why would a intelligent man of many useful trades find himself standing amidst it. Well that is a story only Ben Eversman could tell and understand.

He had joined the Army at eighteen and they recognized his talents as soon as he joined. He spent a mere year in the Rangers before passing the selection for the Green Beret's. But the greenies were a stepping stone to something greater…Delta Force.

The dreaded "D" was the highlight of his military career, and he loved every minute of it. He did stuff people never would have dreamed about, and no one would ever know seeing how Delta didn't officially exist.

After a few years his military career was cut short due to a rough helicopter accident that broke multiple bones and severed most of the tendons in right hand. He recovered and regained most ,if not all of his maneuverability, except for in the winter when the scar tissue pained him, he was fine.

Unfortunately the Army didn't think so and put him on light duty behind a desk. Going from jumping out of airplanes to serving officers coffee didn't suit him so Ben retired and received an honorable discharge.

Hopping around South America he worked a short stint as an Embassy protection representative. And after that bottomed out he worked an even shorter stint as a paid operator or contractor in the middle east to a multi billion dollar defense company.

But it was never the same and he eventually quit from both of them to become a gunsmith for a small firearm company in Colorado. He did well enough, had a condo and a pretty girlfriend but he never felt at home living the civilian life.

Call it cliché, but Ben always loved a good firefight, he did his best thinking under pressure. And he toughed it out for a year but when he got a call from an old friend he considered leaving. When he was told the pay he knew he would be leaving.

Ben had made a living killing his way across the world and the place he hated most was central Africa. Now he was returning…for what? A hefty pay and a promise of good times and death and destruction all around. For some that wasn't enough but for him it was all he needed.

He had sold his condo, told his girlfriend to find a better man, quit his job and hopped aboard a private jet to Africa with the clothes on his back and a few of his favorite rifles tagging along.

He had gotten waylaid in Somalia and they lost one of his rifles along with his duffel full of clothes and supplies. They said they would look into it but they were as good as gone. Boarding a twin engine prop cargo plane to central Africa he held tight to his remaining firearm.

Ben was napping in the cargo hold when the plane touched down. A burst of automatic fire awoke him to a pilot less plane that had not finished landing. The plane swerved off the dirt runway and ended belly up in a gully on the side. Fishing his rifle out of its drag bag he quickly dispatched a trio of rebels armed with AK-47's.

Stumbling out of the wreckage he crested the gully top see what used to be a small local airport now destroyed. The only building left standing was the control tower and he quickly lost sight of that after someone in sight opened up with a heavy machinegun.

He was pinned in the gully with a crashed cargo plane and he had only spent one minute on the ground…what a country.

" Take The Good With The Bad "

Name: Kevin Kowalski

Age: 28

Place Of Birth: Warsaw, Poland

Nationality: Polish, nationalized American

Height: 6,3

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Hazel

Weight: 200lbs

Experience: United States Marine Corp Ret. ( Infantry, Force Recon ) Blackwater Paid Operator Ret. ( Middle East ) , Arms Smuggler ( South Africa, Eastern Europe )

_- Excellent Marksman, Savvy Mechanic, Can take the top off of a man at 1500 meters, or fix the transmission on your truck, either way a useful ally._

Name: Marc Fisher

Age: 43

Place Of Birth: Melbourne, Australia

Nationality: Australian

Height: 5,10

Hair: Brown, Grey

Eyes: Green

Weight: 185

Experience: Royal Marines Ret. ( Jungle Warfare ), Combat & Survival Instructor Ret. Big Game Hunter ( North Africa ), Master Diver, Explosives Expert.

_- Old beyond his years, Combat and drinking have taken their toll, Expert in jungle warfare and countless other skills, Loves the fight and trained to never lose. _

"That was gunfire" Kevin Kowalski spoke to his partner as he drove their Jeep through a bumpy back road, pedal glued to the floor.

"You sure your mate is alive?" Marc Fisher had one hand on roll cage and the other on top of his trademark Bush hat, trying not to be bounced out of the jeep.

"Id bet money on it, Benji never lost a fight…reminds me of you in a way" Kevin had the truck up on two wheels as he turned a corner and dodged a few kids playing in the road.

"I seriously doubt that, watch it!" Marc barely stopped his rifle from sliding out when the Jeep slammed through an old fence "where the hell are you going!"

Kevin smiled, the old veteran almost never lost his cool…almost. "Shortcut Marc hold on to your ass". The jeep crashed through jungle as he followed an old game trail through the vegetation.

The Jeep dodged trees and rocks as it rumbled through the jungle. It ran that way for several minutes before they sprang into an open clearing.

"Holy Shit!" Marc threw his hands over his head as they jumped a large gully.

Kevin still had the pedal floored as he cleared the gully, he swerved to avoid a boulder. The Jeeps tires caught the dense vegetation on the ground, and it flipped.

Not strapped in Marc bailed out before the first flip, tumbling to the ground he watched his rifle, Kevin's rifle, and their assorted gear fly out as the Jeep tumbled, flipping several times.

Held fast seat belted in and hands on the wheel Kevin rode it out, the world spinning around him.

The Jeep flipped a last time tipping on its side, metal screeching in stress, before making a miraculous landing on all four wheels a couple hundred feet away.

"You lucky bastard are you okay" Marc picked up their rifles and gear and threw it in the back of the Jeep before coming to the drivers side.

Kevin sat in the drivers seat, he forced a smile chuckling, but his shaking hands held the truth. Cursing in polish he turned to Fisher "That was cool…scared the hell outta me but cool"

"Yeah yeah you bloody idiot, check over the Jeep while I go look for your boy" Marc checked his rifle, the German made G3 PARA was a ruggedly built gun and after flicking a wad of grass of the iron sights it was good to go.

Marc stepped over the bodies of a few rebels and peered over the gully. Sitting on the top of the crashed cargo plane was a man in a tattered jungle shirt and jeans, smoking a cigarette. "Are we alive?"

Ben smiled at the man "I don't know, are we Australian"

Marc nodded "Yes we are"

Ben stood up and dropped his cigarette "Then we're alive…but very confused"

Marc watched the man pick himself up and climb up the gully. Extending a hand he helped him to his feet.

Ben slung his rifle over his shoulder and looked over to the battered Jeep to his right "Let me guess, Kevin Kowalski's driving that". Marc smiled "Yep, lets go pay him a visit", They walked over to a pair of legs sticking out from underneath the Jeep.

"Well Marc, the I think I bent the axel, not enough to put her out of action mind you, the tires are a bit wobbly and we have no four wheel drive…but we can get a few miles or so out of it" Kevin pulled himself out from underneath the car glancing up at Ben "Little Benny Eversman, Colorado's hero…I thought you were still locked up in your office making the big buck"

Ben helped his friend off the ground "Yeah well they let me out for good behavior…I'm a model citizen now" Ben looked over the Jeep "Still destroying all of your vehicles Kowalski"

Kevin frowned "No no she still runs like the deer, American engineering you know" He spoke with a slight accent. "Like a deer…you polish fag" Ben clapped him on the back.

"Right cheery reunion and all mates, but we better scatter" Marc looked around observing their surroundings.

They piled in the Jeep and were silent as Kevin worked his magic on it. He slowly turned the key and the engine whined before turning over and rumbling to life. Taking off down the road out of the airport gunfire opened up on them.

"Oh yeah MG in the tower" Ben turned to see Marc lifting a AT-4 launcher. "Yeah well not for long" He fired blowing a hole in the small wooden control tower blowing it to the ground.

They sped off down a jungle path away from the smoking airport.

**Authors Note - I left out the exact location for a reason, and just as you can yank a bullet out of your hand in far cy 2, I will try to make it somewhat realistic but there will be that air of miraculous feats of invulnerability.**


End file.
